The Price Of Love
by Evening Nightshade
Summary: An opportunity presented by the Valar gives Arwen and Aragorn the chance of an eternity together - but are they willing to pay the price? Slightly AU. Chapter Three is up!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of The Rings, Tolkien does. And I hope that he's not turning in his grave when he sees what I've done to his beloved masterpiece!  
  
Summary: An opportunity presented by the Valar gives Arwen and Aragorn the chance of an eternity together - but are they willing to pay the price? Expect some Silmillarion references, supporting roles from Beren and Luthien, plus two original characters.  
  
Authors Note: May be rather slow in updating, as my exams are on, and I'm writing this when I'm meant to be on study leave. Hope my teacher's aren't reading this!!!!!!  
  
PROLOGUE: ELROND'S WISH...  
  
Snow littered the ground of Lorien, as a lone figure dragged her feet towards Cerin Amroth. Her onyx hair was laced with streaks of silver, her face, once smother than satin, showing the first creases of ago. Moonlight illuminated the tear tracks that marred her skin, and a sob rose in her throat.  
  
She sank to the ground, and bowed her head, murmuring a prayer to Mandos for the quick delivery of her soul. Laying herself at the foot of the hill, she closed her eyes and cried into the night, her voice a mere whisper, "Estel..."  
  
Panting, sweat dripping off his clammy brow, Elrond woke with a start. Running a hand through his ebony hair, he glanced around the unfamiliar room. Panic took hold for a moment, until realisation struck. He was in Gondor.  
  
The heat of the summer night struck his body as he opened the casement to gaze out at the courtyard of the White City. Even at this late hour, preparations were still underway for the wedding of King Elessar Telecontari to Princess Arwen Undomiel.  
  
Banners billowed in the breeze as lords shouted orders to workmen in their construction of a temporary pavilion. Aragorn (on Arwen's orders, Elrond thought with a chuckle) had requested that the ceremony take place outdoors. Thus, Faramir, Steward of Gondor, had sent craftsmen to assemble the pavilion before the morning of Midsummer's Day.  
  
It had almost been complete when Arwen's escort had arrived at dusk this evening (minus the bride-to-be, who had insisted joining her twin brothers at the Battle of Pelennor). Even Galadriel ad Celeborn had been impressed with the skilled artisans of Minas Tirith, who had spared no detail in the quest to create a perfect wedding for their now king. After the terrible experience Gondor had suffered in recent months, there was little wonder that such effort went into this ceremony,  
  
Elrond smiled sadly. Celebrian would have loved this. It tore at his heart to know that she would never have the opportunity to meet Aragorn, that she would never see her beloved Arwen ever again.  
  
He raised his eyes to the cloudless evening sky. The star of Earendil gleamed above all others. Elrond gazed at his father's star, drawing comfort from its familiar light. He remembered sitting the twins on his lap as children - and later Arwen - and telling them the story of their famous grandfather.  
  
Closing his eyes, he murmured, "Please, Mandos, do not claim the soul of my only daughter. Spare her this grief; spare her and Estel..."  
  
Far away, deep in Valinor, Elbereth was listening.....  
  
************  
  
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	2. Chapter One: Escape From Minas Tirith

DISCLAIMER: See Epilogue.  
  
CHAPTER ONE: ESCAPE FROM MINAS TIRITH  
  
Two cloaked figures swept furtively through the stone corridors of the White Tower. Their heavy boots barely made a sound as they walked - these Men were Rangers, and stealth was their skill.  
  
The leader held his hand out to halt his companion. Someone was drawing close: he could sense it. They slunk into a corner, as drunken laughter filled the air. Seconds later, two diminutive figures staggered along the hall, not noticing the men hiding in the shadows.  
  
"Come on, Pip!" Merry's voice rang clearly in the emptiness. He pulled fork from his belt. "To the wedding!"  
  
"Right behind you!" Pippin hiccuped, tripping mere feet away from the Rangers. He grasped a marble statute of Elendil for support, and clambered unsteadily to his feet. "Thank you, my good fellow!" He smiled at the figurine then stumbled onwards. "Don't start without us!"  
  
"They'll be suffering in the morning," one man sniggered once the hobbits had disappeared, and were reassured of their absence by the cries as the two drunks plummeted down a staircase and landed in a heap on the floor.  
  
"Shh..." His companion hissed, grey eyes scanning the area like a bird of prey.  
  
"Honestly, Aragorn!" Faramir shook his head. "It is almost morning. Everyone is either sound asleep, or is in the banquet hall, still drinking themselves senseless or having collapsed from doing so. No-one is going to stop us!"  
  
"Caution, Faramir," the King replied. "You forget that most of our guests are elves. They can sense things you and I cannot."  
  
Faramir shook his head. "Trust me, Aragorn. If they are anything like Elladan and Elrohir, we are perfectly safe." He smothered a grin at the memory of Elrond's twin sons, drowning pints of ale and collapsing in unison. Elrond was less than impressed, and it had taken the combined efforts of him, Celeborn, Glorfindel and Erestor to drag the sleeping elves to bed. "By the way, whose idea was it to order twenty-seven barrels of beer from the Prancing Pony Inn, in Bree?" Faramir narrowed his eyes accusingly.  
  
Aragorn feigned solemnity. "I have no idea."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"It's almost time..." Eowyn murmured. "They should be here by now." She rose from the armchair, and began to pace. "What if they have been caught?"  
  
"Be still, Eowyn!" Arwen stood, smoothing a crease from her black skirt. "Estel moves as stealthily as an elf. He will come. Have no doubt."  
  
Eowyn still did not look convinced.  
  
A sharp knock drew her from her reverie.  
  
"Who is it?" Arwen called softly.  
  
"Evenstar, it is us." The voice responded, causing Arwen to smile.  
  
Faramir and Aragorn stepped into the room, each embracing their betrothed, and kissed them. For a few silent moments, each couple remained locked into their private world, oblivious to the outside world.  
  
"Are you ready, vanimelda?" Aragorn whispered to Arwen.  
  
She nodded. "Yes, aran-nin. It is almost time."  
  
They each slung a pack over their shoulders, grinning at one another in anticipation. Aragorn took her gloved hand in his, before leaning forward to brush a kiss to her cheek.  
  
"Take care!" Eowyn smiled at the couple, feeling a momentary pang of guilt that she had almost destroyed their perfect love.  
  
"We will," Aragorn reassured her. Turning to Faramir, he asked, "How will you explain this to the lords?"  
  
The Steward grinned. "I'll improvise. They'll believe anything. Elrond, on the other hand..." He shrugged.  
  
"Speaking of my father..." Arwen shot a glance outside. "It is nearing dawn. Estel and I should leave soon, lest we be caught. If Ada ever gets his hands on you," she stared at her future husband. "Not even the Valar could stop him unleashing his fury on you. I love you too much to see you hung, drawn and quartered." She placed a kiss on his brow.  
  
"Do not fear, Evenstar!" He grinned. "I shall tell him that this was you idea!"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Asfaloth and Roheryn stood saddled and ready as Arwen and Aragorn slipped from the palace into the stables. Arwen, blessed with the heightened senses of the Eldar, wrinkled her nose at the stench. She stroked her stallion's nose lovingly, before mounting.  
  
"Are you ready, meleth-nin?" Aragorn asked, before pulling up the hood of his cloak. She nodded, and did the same.  
  
They dug their heels into their stallions' sides, and rode into the emerging dawn. "Noro lim, Asfaloth! Noro lim Roheryn!"  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Translations:  
  
vanimelda = beloved  
  
aran-nin = my king  
  
meleth-nin = my love  
  
Noro lim = ride fast  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Thanks for reading! And keep the reviews coming! 


	3. Chapter Two: Visions

DISCLAIMER: See Prologue.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Finally, Chapter Two is up! I would like to take a moment to thank all my kind reviewers: Staran, Moonstone Tears, Deborah, Losseniaiel, Ringhuiniele, Feather, Natters, Psycho Goddess, Letanica and Sumone. THANK YOU!!!!!!! :-)  
  
CHAPTER TWO: VISIONS...  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
On any other day, the White City would have been a perfect name for Minas Tirith - any day, but today. In preparation for the wedding of their new king, the chief city of Gondor was awash with vibrant colour. Banners billowed in the summer breeze. The locals were gathered in the streets in their finest attire, in anticipation of the celebrations.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"WHAT?!" Elrond's voice echoed along the corridors, arousing even the heaviest sleepers.  
  
Faramir trembled - he knew Elrond would be angry, but this fury surpassed all expectations. "King Elessar has been summoned away on urgent business."  
  
The elf-lord slammed his fist upon the table. "On his wedding day? How could he do this to my daughter?" Muttering an elven curse under his breath, he rose from his seat in the throne room. "When I get my hands on that. mortal, he will regret this!" His expression softened. "Where is Arwen? She will no doubt be disappointed."  
  
Faramir swallowed, and answered the elf before him, his voice a mere whisper. "She went with him."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The two riders called their horses to a halt as they reached a stream. The water trickled from the rocks overhead, glimmering in the morning sunlight. Aragorn climbed down from Roheryn, before gently lifting Arwen off her stallion's back. He brushed a kiss to her temple. "Not far now..."  
  
She smiled uneasily. "Good."  
  
He sighed. "Arwen, I do not think that we should have lied to Faramir and Eowyn."  
  
"We had no choice!" She snapped. Then, her expression softened. "Faramir sees you as more than his king - you are his friend, and the last link to his brother. If he were to discover our true purpose, then he would insist on accompanying us. It is not right to involve him in this matter. We do not know what dangers we will be facing."  
  
Suddenly, she stiffened. Her sapphire eyes glazed over, as she collapsed on the grass.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
She saw orcs - thousands of snarling orcs, adorned for battle. Like a plague of locus attacking crops, they swept over the villages. Children screamed, crying out for their mothers. Mothers cried in desperation, calling the names of their children.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Fire: fire was everywhere. An elderly man, trapped in his cottage, howled as the inferno swept through his home, engulfing him in the flames of death.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Swords clashed as the orc army were meet by an army of men, elves and dwarves. Battle cries filled the air, soon drowned out by the screams of the wounded. Arrows rained down on the bloodied field, slaying many. But it was a vain hope: the orcs were winning...  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Arwen!" Aragorn shook her shoulders. "Arwen!"  
  
She gasped. Her fingers clutched his arms, nails digging into the tender flesh.  
  
"Mani naa ta?" He asked urgently.  
  
Tears meandered down her cheeks. "Oh, Estel!"  
  
"Another vision?" He guessed  
  
Arwen nodded as he gently brushed away a tear with his thumb. "They are becoming more frequent. And more vivid." She buried her face in his shoulder. "I am frightened, Estel."  
  
"Hush..." Aragorn cradled her in his arms, and whispered consoling words to her. "Amin mela lle, nál ainunya. Lle varna." He began to hum the Lay of Lúthien, hoping that the song would comfort her. She began to sing softly to the tune, and he soon joined her.  
  
"Do not fear, I will protect you." Aragorn nuzzled her hair lovingly. "Nothing will harm you will there is a breath in my lungs, blood in my veins, and a sword in my hand to prevent it."  
  
Arwen did not answer, for she knew that he spoke the truth. He would give his life to save hers, and she feared that, on this quest, he might have to.  
  
'You should not have told him of this...' she scolded herself. But, danger or not, Arwen could not deny that she was grateful to have Estel by her side.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
TRANSLATIONS:  
  
  
  
Mani naa ta? = What is it?  
  
Amin mela lle, nál ainunya = I love you, my angel  
  
Lle varna = You are safe. 


	4. Chapter Three: The Underling

DISCLAIMER: Let me see... nope, I don't own Middle Earth or any of Professor Tolkien's creations. HOWEVER I *do* own Elenaina. (Go me!)  
  
  
  
SPECIAL MENTIONS: Thanks to my latest batch of reviewers: Thorn Rose, staran, Dee, ivy, Natters, PHBee, SS/Destiny Daae, Villainous Vander Ark88, and Bellemaine Chercoeur. Cheers!  
  
  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Big time apologies for the delay in updating. Also, I've stuck another note at the end of this chapter to explain some things to anyone who may not have read The Silmarillion yet.  
  
  
  
  
  
... Indicates words being spoken into a character's mind.  
  
  
  
R&R, please?  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
CHAPTER THREE: THE UNDERLING  
  
  
  
As Laurelin's fruit rose above the horizon, its golden light glimmering on the Western Sea, the Ainur rose in song, The Great Music echoing throughout the Undying Lands. Lately, the Valar's melodies told of the destruction of the One Ring by a Halfling, Frodo Baggins, and the downfall of Sauron, underling of Melkor.  
  
  
  
But in spite of this great triumph, all Elenaina heard as she stirred from her slumber was the lamentations of Nienna, Lady of Pity.  
  
  
  
Rolling onto her side, she blinked her eyes open. A bloom of elanor brushed across her cheek. Elenaina sat up with a sigh, turning her gaze towards the dawn. Such a poor compensation for the light of the Two Trees. Smoothing her dark gown, she plucked a few stray blades of grass from the skirt, emerald eyes clouded in pensive thought as the breeze whipped her chestnut tresses into her face. Reluctantly, she stood, turning towards the Halls of Nienna.  
  
  
  
Unlike the halls of any of her fellow Valar, save perhaps Mandos, Nienna favoured a dark home, sorrow crying out from the very walls. Despite being the handmaiden of the Lady of Pity, Elenaina could not stand to be around such pain and grief for so long. Thus, she tried to remain outdoors for as long as she could without neglecting her duties. Even the simple pleasure of falling asleep amidst the luscious blooms of elanor could lighten her heart; but today, that gave her little respite.  
  
  
  
Translucent curtains of black stain shuddered from the doorway as Elenaina strode along the balcony before slipping easily into the House, feeling the sting of tears in her eye. Even after an age and a half, the pity of Nienna would overwhelm the maiden as she crossed the threshold, ensnaring her heart in the clutches of a dread so powerful she could hardly breathe.  
  
  
  
Elenaina... The gentle, mournful voice of the Vala Nienna filled her mind, the connection sending a termor down her spine. It often filled Elenaina with unease, to know that someone else (although if felt wrong to consider one of the most powerful of Eru's servants as such) could enter her thoughts, see past the indifferent exterior she upheld.  
  
  
  
Greetings, Lady of Pity. Her handmaiden replied.  
  
  
  
She will soon wake. It must be done now, child. Touch her mind with your power, and show her what to do. Came the command, the laments the victims of Melkor and Sauron's terror ceasing for but a second.  
  
  
  
At once, hiril-nîn. Elenaina bowed, despite the fact that her mistress was not around to see this show of respect, but compelled to do it nonetheless. Closing her eyes, she stiffened, allowing all thoughts but those of her task to flee her mind... allowing her thoughts to touch the Evenstar's and intercept her dreams.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Aragorn wrapped his arms around Arwen's waist and lowered his lips to her in a passionate kiss. She cupped his face, pulling him closer as the Bruinen Falls hissed behind them.  
  
  
  
A clap of lightning drew them from the kiss. Arwen cried out in dismay as Aragorn vanished like a mist. "Meleth-nin, Manke naa lle?"  
  
  
  
A gentle, feminine voice filled her mind. Lady Undomiel.  
  
  
  
She spun around sharply, seeking the one who spoke to her. Before Arwen, stood a dark-haired maid, with eyes as green as foliage and milk-white skin. A smile crossed the young woman lips. There was an air about her, an elven grace, but her ears were rounded like a Human's.  
  
  
  
Mae govannen, Lady Undomiel. The Maia spirit greeted, stepping towards Arwen, who stood wide-eyed in fascination. I bear tidings from the One. This message I offer thee: continue your course east of Osgiliath. At dusk, your true purpose will be revealed. Namarie...  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Arwen awoke with a start, to find Aragorn watching her, concern evident in his expression. "Are you all right, meleth-nin?" he asked, sliding closer to her.  
  
  
  
For a moment, she stared at her surroundings: still the same woodland clearing they had stopped in last night. Trees loomed around them, the milky sunlight filtering through the green canopy overhead. A soft morning breeze whipped her dark tresses into her face.  
  
  
  
"It was her again..." Arwen whispered, pulling Aragorn closer. "She still haunts my dreams, and she came bearing another message. We are to continue our journey, and at sunset, the meaning of my visions will be revealed."  
  
  
  
"Then let us make haste!" Aragorn whistled to their steeds. Roheyrn and Asfaloth came galloping from the clearing where they had been grazing.  
  
  
  
After eating a hasty breakfast of lembas and drinking water from the skin they carried, the lovers mounted their steeds. Arwen dug her heels into Asfaloth's side, spurring the magnificent white stallion onwards. "Noro lim!"  
  
  
  
"Noro lim, Roheyrn!" Aragorn cried, racing after his beloved.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Elenaina blinked her eyes open, raising a hand to wipe away the tears. Arwen Evenstar would be presented with her task, a quest more perilous than the one undertaken by her ancestress, Luthien Tinuvel - and Luthien had died. What fate then, awaited Arwen Undomiel?  
  
  
  
At the thought of Luthien, Elenaina dissolved into hysterical tears. Tears of grief, tears of regret, tears of failure. 'I failed you, mellon amin, but I swear upon my honour that I will not fail the Evenstar.'  
  
  
  
Hurrying outdoors, she lay back down on the flower bed upon which she had slept every night for millennia beyond count. Her eyes fluttered shut as she turned her mind towards Middle Earth. Towards the elf-maiden whom she had watched from afar, watched blossom from a sweet, innocent child into a beautiful princess, destined to become Queen of Gondor.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Streaks of red, orange and gold marred the powder blue sky as Laurelin's fruit began its descent behind the hills. Two riders, silhouetted against the landscape, dismounted their horses.  
  
  
  
"'Tis dusk," Aragorn said, helping Arwen down from Asfaloth's back. Her muscles screamed in protest, but blessed with elven grace and poise, she did not stumble. "Soon, we learn what is wanted of us."  
  
  
  
"Estel..." Arwen whispered, clutching his hand protectively. "I am afraid, meleth-nin."  
  
  
  
He pulled the elf-maiden, the keeper of his heart, into his embrace. "I refuse to pretend that I am not afraid too. But we have one another, and I swear that I will protect you no matter what." He brushed a tender kiss to her brow. "Amin mela lle."  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Elenaina knelt up, arms outstretched. Murmuring a chant older than Arda itself, she felt herself slip away, spirit and body parting for but a moment before being pulled together again by an unseen force.  
  
  
  
She shook her head. Her own trepidation was holding her back, preventing her from performing her appointed tasks and duties. This would not do. A Maia should not have to worry about an elven princess and a human king she had not even met, regardless of how protective she felt towards them both.  
  
  
  
Inhaling a deep breath, she repeated the chant. A tingle, like cool water on heated flesh, reverberated throughout her body. Her fingers numbed, tension draining away as the state of complete bliss overwhelmed her. Her body grew slack, emerald eyes slipping shut.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Arwen stiffened. "Estel, nad no ennas."  
  
  
  
He drew Anduril from its sheath. "Stay back, Evenstar."  
  
  
  
But she shook her head, and unsheathed her own blade. "No. We promised to stand together in this."  
  
  
  
Aragorn was about to protest when a blinding light filled the air. Both elf and man sank to their knees, screwing their eyes shut. "What is the name of the Valar is happening?" Arwen shrieked, groping blindly for her love. Aragorn joined her in an exclamation of pain when their foreheads crashed into one another.  
  
  
  
Fear not, Elfstone and Evenstar. A voice, like the sound of a harp being plucked by nimble fingers, filled their ears, the light fading to a silver glow to reveal a young woman bathed in light, her pale face devoid of expression, the light of the stars glimmering in her eyes.  
  
  
  
Arwen raised her eyes. "You!"  
  
  
  
Aragorn stared in wonderment, both at his love and the mysterious maiden who stood before them. He turned to Arwen, a question flaring in his eyes.  
  
  
  
I know what you wish to know, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Estel, King Elessar, the maiden spoke into his mind. Too long have I heard your secret wishes, the wish to spare the one you love from the grief your death would cause her. Aragorn blinked in shock, his head pounding. You tried pushing her away to spare her, but your love was stronger than fear. But know, you have been given a chance to save her; to save both of you. All you need to do is listen...  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Arwen, Elrondiell, two nights ago your father beseeched the Valar, the Maia spirit whispered into the she-elf's mind. He wished that both you and your love be spared the fate that mortality will bring you.  
  
  
  
Why are you telling me this? Arwen shot back.  
  
  
  
I come to tell you that your Father's prayer has been answered. To a certain degree at least.  
  
  
  
Arwen felt her heart sink into her stomach. For a moment, the briefest second, she had though that perhaps Estel had been offered the gift of the Elven-kind, the gift of immortality.  
  
  
  
But you have a chance, Undomiel. Both of you. The chance for the one thing you have wished for every night in your dreams, and in the deepest, darkest caverns of your heart. An eternity.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Elenaina's indifference slowly melted to a smile. "Nienna, Lady of Pity, has offered you this gift, this one chance."  
  
  
  
"And that is...?" Arwen watched the maiden with expectant eyes, hope shining out from her features.  
  
  
  
"A quest."  
  
  
  
"But we already on a quest!" Aragorn interjected. "For months now, Arwen has been plagued with visions of a terrible future, a future where the world will be ruled by Uruk-Hai, unless we stop it! And now, you come along and try to sway us from that purpose! Who are you?"  
  
  
  
Elenaina smiled; a bittersweet smile. "Fear not, King of Gondor. The visions that have haunted your betrothed were my doing."  
  
  
  
Arwen dropped to the ground. "Are you telling me..." she spat, flames of anger burning behind her eyes, "That what I saw was not real? That Estel and I disappointed our friends and family - not to mention the people of Gondor, who wanted to their king wed - for some... whim of yours?!"  
  
  
  
Elenaina shook her head, indifference creeping back into her expression. "What has been shown to you was not for my amusement, nor the amusement of my Masters. It is a possible future for Middle Earth." She raised her hands above her head, eyes fluttering shut. "Watch..."  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Aragorn and Arwen clutched one another fiercely as the fiery volcano in the background erupted, unleashing its anger in a sea of molten rock and foul black fumes, snatching the very breath from their lungs.  
  
  
  
Inhumane moans screamed in the blackness, tortured souls howling in agony at the snapping of whips. Aragorn tightened his grip on Arwen's slender waist as she buried her face in his shoulder amidst the pounding of hammers forging crude weapons.  
  
  
  
Then, they heard it: a cold, high-pitched cackle, followed soon after by furious commands in the Black Speech of Mordor. Lifting her head, she met Aragorn's eyes, seeing something that gripped her heart more powerfully than the nefarious voice whose words burned her ears. She saw terror.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
They tumbled, landing on the grass. Aragorn stared at the Maia, who watched them both, concern evident on her face.  
  
  
  
"What you have seen is real," she said, "What you have seen is not the future, but the present. Mordor has awoken once more. The underling of Sauron has come into his own."  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
ELVISH TRANSLATIONS:  
  
  
  
Hiril-nîn = my lady  
  
  
  
Manke naa lle = Where are you?  
  
  
  
Nad no ennas = Something is out there  
  
  
  
Elrondiell = Elrond's daughter/Daughter of Elrond.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
A/N: Just some notes about the character Elenaina for anyone who is interested. The name is dervived from the Quenya word 'elena', meaning 'of the stars' and 'aina', which can be translated as 'holy'. So the name Elenaina means 'star of holiness'. Elenaina is a Maia, handmaiden to the Vala Queen Nienna, the Lady of Pity.  
  
  
  
Now, for the confusing part: it was Elbereth who heard Elrond's prayer in the prologue, because, according to the 'Valaquenta' in The Silmarillion, "Varda [Elbereth] hears more clearly than all other ears the sound of voices that cry from east to west." However, since it was what I would classify as a prayer of pity, Varda would pass Elrond's wish onto Nienna. But, being a Vala goddess, Nienna would not wish to intervene in mortal affairs, so the duty of granting Elrond's wish would fall to her servant, Elenaina. Does that make sense?  
  
  
  
If anyone doesn't agree with what I've said, feel free to e-mail me at princessevenstar0104@hotmail.com or to post your comments in a review. 


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